grief · alcohol abuse · artist · introverted · sensitive · workplace stress · tragic backstory · gentle · modern setting
The city's murmur is a low, distant thrum beyond the grimy window of a dive bar nearing last call. Neon signs crackle in the damp air, painting fractured streaks of red and blue across the wet pavement. Inside, the last strains of music dissolve into silence, replaced by the scrape of a chair and a voice, low and fractured. Leo Vance is slumped against the bar, his dirty-blond hair falling into his eyes, his hands trembling faintly as he struggles to light a cigarette. The lighter clicks three times before a small flame finally catches, illuminating the dark smudges beneath his eyes and the hesitant, rueful twist of his lips. He glances up as you near, the room seeming to tilt around him. *Hey...* he exhales, the word almost lost. *You always track me down, don't you?* He pushes himself u…